Random observations from a random observer.

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About Yours Truly

I began this blog as a way to corral the random yet universal thoughts that float into my head at, oh, usually 2 or 2:30 in the morning–when I should be asleep. If you’ve had the same experience, welcome. If you’re a sound sleeper, welcome anyway.

My goal is to make you smile, make you think, and make you nod your head in that sort of yeah-I-feel-the-same-way-too fashion. Hopefully, though, not in the middle of the night.

This isn’t my first rodeo. Or my first blog.

Ok, this would be my first rodeo. But this is my second blog. I wouldn’t call the first one a trophy blog–more like a starter blog. I had good intentions, but in retrospect the topics were too narrow: Writing and running. Soon the well dried up, and I found myself writing instead about picking out cereal as a kid, garage sales, and Say Yes to the Dress. Random? You bet. But also right up my alley.

Maybe random is right up your alley, too. If not, you probably haven’t stuck around to read this anyway; that, or you’ve got some time to kill. Either way, I invite you to add your 2 cents of randomness as a comment or by using the Contact option–your choice.

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8 thoughts on “About Yours Truly”

Nothing wrong with random. Think of it as being a renaissance woman. Or think of it like I do. My aptitude test in college resulted in “beach comber”. They didn’t really have a category called that, but my advisor told me that the results were basically the same as beach comber. I’m not sure he meant it as a compliment, but once I embraced the notion, I was much happier. I quit feeling guilty about not being focused on one consuming interest. I like random.

Thank you for sharing! Personally I can’t think of a more enjoyable career than “beach comber.” Better paying, sure, but not more enjoyable. And I like the notion of renaissance woman. Maybe I’ll use that one next time one of my daughters rolls her eyes at me.

Ferris wheels make me queasy too. But not as badly as roller coasters. And there is a way to fold a fitted sheet, but I can’t explain it without falling off the edge of the English language. If you’re ever in North Cornwall, stop by and I’ll show you. Assuming, of course, that you’d rather know than not. If you roll them into a ball and stuff them into the back of the closet, they don’t protest at all.

Roller coasters crossed the line from making me queasy to inciting vomit years ago, I’m afraid. I’d feel downright proud if they only made me queasy these days. And I’d love to visit North Cornwall. I’m not sure I’d take you up on your fitted seat offer, though; I’d probably prefer you show me around town, because I’ve found a method of folding that works perfectly–the very method, in fact, you elude to in your last sentence. If you’re ever in Southern California, please stop by; just don’t peek in the closets–or if you do, please don’t judge!

Hey Linda, I found you through Suzie’s blog party. I just had my first and last experience on the ferris wheel and I was very queasy but I wanted to participate in a ride with the family. I have not been on a roller coaster since I was a teenager and I literally wanted to jump off. It had me that messed up. Thinking process just was gone lol.

Thank you, Lisa! I hope you post your list if you come up with one! And if you could explain how to fold the sheets, I’d really appreciate it. And I’d appreciate it even more if it came with a YouTube video!